


if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight

by simply_kelp



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Implied Incest, Kylo hates his job, M/M, Past Brainwashing, This is weird, going to be non-canon in a day, government-sanctioned murder, how many crack theories can I fit into one fic?, murder and porn as character study, the First Order started out with the best intentions (or so they would like you to believe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simply_kelp/pseuds/simply_kelp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snoke wove for him visions of a time not too far away, when crime and the threats to the Order would be eliminated and they could return to the glorious ideals the Order was founded upon. A time of peace and equality. As the years pass, Kylo grows less and less certain he will see that day come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight

**Author's Note:**

> (only posting this because the Finn/Kylo tag needs more love)

There is something about this Stormtrooper that draws Kylo to him. Despite himself, despite his training. There is something… something intangible, familiar but just out of reach. They are on Tatooine now, Kylo and a small cadre of Stormtroopers. And it is only here, at the very farthest corner of the galaxy, almost outside the Order’s reach that Kylo will even consider the possibility of what it means.

“You don’t really sleep,” Finn says one night.

Kylo shakes his head. His unconscious mind is haunted by strange visions, people—blue eyes that are gentle and warm—and places he can never recall seeing, feelings of warmth that he has never known in waking hours. Meditation helps. It centers him, allows him to focus, to push through the exhaustion when every cell of his body is screaming for rest. There are days when he feels as wild as Hux claims him to be.

Kylo has lapses, in memory, in judgement. Usually these lapses end in bloodshed. But now, he reaches out, touches Finn’s ungloved hand with his own. It is warm. Finn’s hand twitches but doesn’t pull away. Kylo allows his fingers a moment to leech Finn’s body heat, allows that moment to extend indefinitely.

The dry air stirs something deep in him, like a forgotten memory. The warm golden dunes go on for miles outside the city limits. The heady blue skies are a stark and welcome contrast. The skies at Starkiller base are grey and clouded. Everything is dull and still and cold as if the planet were sleeping. Not so on Tatooine.

To his recollection, Kylo has never been to a desert planet like Tatooine but there are holes in his memory of his time before the Order, before Snoke took him in. There are breathing exercises that he doesn’t remember learning, reflexes that must have taken years to hone. Kylo has never mentioned this to Snoke. The gaps in his life and more so the curiosity and the desire to fill those gaps.

Rotta the Hutt is the most powerful crime boss in the region. Kylo calls on him, courts him with expensive droids and a river of credits. He has done this routine before. They never trust him but they will trust in his ability to eliminate the competition. And Rotta falls right into place. Kylo is glad he is masked. He is not sure he would be able to hide his disgust for these criminals and degenerates.

In his youth he dreamed of the golden days ahead. Of a time when every planet in the galaxy would be under the protective wing of the Order. Snoke wove for him visions of a time not too far away, when crime and the threats to the Order would be eliminated and they could return to the glorious ideals the Order was founded upon. A time of peace and equality. As the years pass, Kylo grows less and less certain he will see that day come.

The mission goes long. Months spent tracking down petty smugglers and pirates, rounding them up to ship to the nearest prison planets, eliminating all those who attempt resistance. Kylo grows tired. He feels his resolve weakening, questions the wisdom of requesting Finn for this mission. His reactions times are among the fastest, he is competent, he does not revel in violence but is efficient and capable of prioritizing the safety and continuance of the Order. On paper he is an ideal choice.

There are portions of Finn’s file that have been redacted. His planet of origin, family history, early years. There is no indication within his file that he is force sensitive yet Kylo wonders if that is what he senses in Finn. When Kylo has allowed himself to watch Finn he has noticed the way he seems to react almost as if he knows what will happen before it does. A part of Kylo wants to ask Finn about it, see if he too is without a history. Kylo’s own file contains whole pages blacked out that only Snoke can access.

There are no laws under the Order prohibiting relations between men or between soldiers but Snoke would call it a distraction. Until Finn, Kylo had had little interest in people beyond the abstract. The People, who Snoke had tasked him with protecting—from themselves if need be. Relationships, Snoke told him, were gateways to pain, to betrayal, to treason. But if this is a mistake, Kylo decides, the taste of Finn’s skin on his tongue, then it is a mistake he will choose to make.

Kylo hates the torture. Hates the weakness of his targets, hates the screams and cries that haunt his sleepless nights. Oh, he is good at it, he knows the exact right places to apply pressure, the right people to threaten to get them to divulge every little secret. He is good at what he does and it comes so easily when he lets the emotions take over. Feeds his hatred, his anger, his fear until there is nothing else left. The woman before him sobs, her green skin mottled orange, yellow blood dribbling from her mouth. “Anything,” she cries, “just please don’t hurt my children.”

Finn does not meet his eyes when Kylo seeks him out.

Kylo’s path is obstructed by the body of a young girl. Wild dogs devour her flesh and lap at the blood spilled onto the sand. Water is scarce here. One of the dogs snarls at him, the fur around its mouth caked with sand and blood. He cuts through each of them with his lightsaber and leaves their carcasses where they fall, haloing the half-eaten corpse.

And there are moments when Kylo feels like a dog, like a rabid animal loosed by his master to instill fear in the populace. (When he is done here, a bureaucrat will be sent to take his place and the people will welcome them with open arms.) Later he ends up on his knees, fingers digging bruises into Finn’s thighs as he sucks his cock. One of Finn’s hands cards through Kylo’s hair, strokes it with something akin to tenderness.

They have reached the point in their mission of mass executions. When the planet is plagued by the diseases of crime and iniquity to such an extent that drastic measures are the only way to save it. It always comes to this eventually. The people hide in their homes, in cellars and hastily created false walls. But Snoke would say their hiding reveals their treachery. For why should they hide if they are innocent? The Order does not harm the innocent.

The blood of those they have killed has polluted rivers in far off planets. It collects in pools along streets and clings to their boots. Kylo feels it always dripping from his fingertips. His hands search out every sensitive region of Finn’s body, until the gasps and cries he hears are from pleasure and not death or torment. They are doing the right thing. He can’t say for certain if it is for himself or Finn that he says this.

One of Kylo’s first memories is reciting the _Declaration of the Rights of Sentient Beings under the First Order_. It had already been suspended and a state of emergency declared for eight years at the time. That was nearly twenty years ago. Now the Order academies do not even teach it to the new recruits. He tries to ignore the implication. Instead they memorize the proclamation that with one sentence allowed for the evolution of a police state, for the creation of Kylo Ren: _The rights of all sentient beings have been temporarily suspended until a time at which the First Order is safe from all traitors and spies within its borders_.

The Greater Good. Snoke told that to him after his first kill and Kylo repeats it now to his men when they vomit at the reek of burning corpses. Black clouds of smoke hang over Mos Eisley, the stench of burned flesh permeates the air, it lingers on their clothes and in their skin. Sonic showers do little to abate it.

Sometimes he gets flashes, of feelings and of visions, from Finn. A consequence of Finn’s lack of training in the force, perhaps. Mostly they are the echoes of nausea, of screams or a split second memory of a little girl holding a blood-soaked doll, an old man cradling the body of a child. But now Kylo touches Finn’s cheek and sees a familiar vision. The eyes are brown instead of blue but the warmth they give is the same. He hesitates. Finn raises an eyebrow at him. Kylo pushes the thought from his mind and sinks to his knees.

When Kylo was younger he would try to picture how he would fit into the new Order. But there will be no place for him, no peaceful trade he can take up. Not when he was created for one purpose, not when he has the blood of thousands on his hands. He has abandoned that hope now. He was born of the police state and he will die in defense of it or with it.

Rotta and his family are among the last to be executed. They receive a blaster between the eyes. Their slimy, corpulent bodies are left to rot, a symbol to those who would think to betray the Order. The bureaucrat who comes to take their place is a water-fat man with pale skin. Kylo does not think he will last long. He sends a transmission to Snoke that the man has arrived and waits for their next assignment.

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'young god' by Halsey
> 
> my obsession with eighteenth century French politics is shining through, please don’t take this as a reflection of actual historic events, I’m taking things completely out of context to use here...


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